They don’t hear when I speak out loud. Their eyes get lost as they search the crowd.
They just stare.. their tears grieving their past. I am a ghost in the shadows I cast.
They don’t hear when I scream their names. They don’t hear beyond their silly games.
I am the ghost in their closed mind’s eye. I am the ghost always floating nearby.
When they can’t feel me in the cold winter night. When their dreams swirl long with chill, Gothic fright.
I’ll be the ghost who haunts their dreams, the shades of fear in lost moon beams.
I whisper to them in their deafened ears. I howl in frustration at their petty fears.
I am the ghostly entity they will never outlast.
I shimmer and moan and flicker and roam—
It’s always the darkest hour that out-shines the past.
~© Jazzi Ryan Ranes~